


No Promises Pizza

by DemonicSymphony



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pizza Place, Greg Lestrade & John Watson Friendship, M/M, Minor Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Mycroft being nice, Mycroft's Meddling, Sherlock Being Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:24:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicSymphony/pseuds/DemonicSymphony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Mycroft inherit a pizza place from their late uncle... only the stipulations he put in his will when they were young leave much to be desired as adults. (What-if exchangelock piece)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spaceparrot](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=spaceparrot).



> spaceparrot asked "What if the Holmes brothers had to inherit and work in the family pizzeria?"
> 
> Thanks to Antidiogenes, especially Lacuna for the title...

“You have got to be joking,” John exclaimed as he looked over the document.

“I assure you, I am not joking. I would not joke about this. In order to actually inherit this bloody place and be able to sell it, Mycroft and I have to work there for two months.” Sherlock snapped.

John grinned, sparing a glance up at Sherlock. “This is brilliant.”

Sherlock flopped into his chair. “No, it isn’t… Uncle Clifford should have updated his will years ago. Admittedly, we thought it amusing when he came up with it. I suppose I must have been almost six which would have made Mycroft twelve or thirteen.” 

“This is rich… I have to call Greg.” John murmured, pulling out his mobile

“John Watson, don’t you dare! I will have no one learning of this! Do you understand me?”

John bent over in his chair, laughing until his sides hurt. “Oh God, Sherlock, everyone’s going to know. The first person who recognizes you will spread it on the internet.”

Sherlock scowled at John but did not speak.

“I’m going to eat pizza for two months… I’m going to be there every shift you have, just to watch this.” John tried to catch his breathing back as he spoke.

“I forbid it!” Sherlock snarled as he watched John.

“You are so buggered.”


	2. Chapter 2

The first day on the job found Sherlock and Mycroft standing in front of the existing staff looking very much like lambs led to slaughter. Mycroft kept picking at his tee with disdain and a sneer on his face while Sherlock watched everyone with a brow arched.

The manager went over what was expected of them both, taking them to the back and showing them how to chop vegetables. Sherlock smirked over at Mycroft.

It was an unmitigated disaster. The entire evening was full of Sherlock and Mycroft snarking at each other, bandages when knives slipped, and threats of bodily harm from half the staff toward them both.

The manager stood there staring at them, rubbing his temples. “For God’s sake, you two, this is insane… Do either of you have _any_ clue as to how to deal with people?”

“No.” Sherlock and Mycroft answered at the same time. 

“I don’t need to.” Continued Mycroft as Sherlock huffed, “What for?”

“God help us all, this is going to be a long two months. Be back here on Wednesday, same time.” He stalked out of the kitchen, still trying to fight the headache forming between his eyes.

\---

John laughed heartily as Sherlock described the events of the evening to him. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock on the sofa and kissed him, murmuring against his lips, “I’m still going to come in and eat pizza every night… With Greg.”

Sherlock scowled and nipped at John’s lower lip. “I forbid it.”

With a grin, John pulled Sherlock off the sofa, dragging him toward the bedroom. “Convince me to stay home then.”

A low growl left Sherlock as he chased John the rest of the way to the bed.

\---

The following Wednesday they tried Mycroft as a greeter.

“You’ve done diplomatic functions, Mycroft, surely you can do this.” Sherlock murmured.

Mycroft glared at him and Sherlock flounced back to the kitchen, determined to learn how to spin pizza dough.

Later that evening, one of the waitresses found the manager sneaking a smoke out back while he beat his head slowly against the brick wall. She shook her head and patted him on the back. “Well, at least it’s only two months?”

He groaned and took another drag off of his cigarette.

The manager came back inside to find dough all over the kitchen. Sherlock had, finally, gotten the basics down. However, before he’d been successful, he’d managed to fling a dozen large pizzas’ worth of dough everywhere. Mycroft had run off more customers than he’d seated and the wait staff had banished him from the front, but no one was sure where he’d disappeared to.

When he returned to his office, the manager found Mycroft staring in horror at the paperwork. 

“Get out.” Mycroft snapped.

The manager stared at him open mouthed. “This is still my office!”

“Mm, yes Andrew, it is… but this paperwork is- Go away. Go home. I’ll have it straightened by the morning. I refuse to work my shift tomorrow. I’ll be here all night.” Mycroft made a shooing motion with his hand.

Torn, Andrew stood there for a few minutes before sighing and throwing his hands up. The Holmes’ were going to sell the place anyhow, what was closing a couple months early because they ran it into the ground? He went home to brush up his CV and have a stiff drink.

When he arrived the next morning, Mycroft was on the phone with one of their suppliers, telling them in no uncertain terms they would not be paying that much anymore and exactly how much they _would_ be paying. Mycroft thanked them and hung up, looking up.

“Ah, Andrew… please, come in. I’ll go over the changes I’ve made.”

Andrew moved into the cramped office, a brow arched. When Mycroft launched into the explanations of everything he’d done, Andrew couldn’t help but blink at how simple it all was. “Christ… things will be so much easier.”

Mycroft nodded. “I expect so… Now. I have things to do. I’ll be back to see how things are going.”

Without argument, Andrew let Mycroft go, happy to have the help simplifying so much.

Sherlock smirked at Mycroft as they passed by one another and Andrew caught Sherlock on his way through. 

“I think, tonight, we’ll see if you can clear tables.” Andrew informed him.

“Make one little mess in the kitchen…” Sherlock huffed, but swanned off to put up his coat.

Andrew let his head hit the wall, bracing himself for another evening of dealing with a Holmes.

To his surprise, Sherlock was good at clearing tables. He was efficient and quiet with the dishes. The problems stemmed from him butting in on the wait staff with customers and informing the customers what they wanted.

Sherlock managed to run four families out and Andrew was coming to drag him away so he could shove him in the kitchen washing dishes when a woman approached him. 

“That man you have there, we would have never tried the new pizza if not for him. He really should be waiting tables for you. He’s really rather good.”

Andrew blinked in surprise. “Thank you. I’ll see about doing that.”

She smiled to him as they left and gave Sherlock a wave.

That night Andrew caught Sherlock on his way out. “Listen… next shift, why don’t you wait tables, do that thing with finding the perfect pizza for them. Tell them- tell them if they don’t like the pizza, there’s no charge…”

Sherlock arched a brow. “And if they refuse?”

“Oh god, don’t argue with them.”

“Ugh, stupid. That promises to be dull. Fine, have it your way.” Sherlock didn’t leave Andrew any room to argue, just swanned off in his coat.

Jesus… it was going to be a long two months. Andrew rubbed his temples against the semi-permanent headache he’d developed.

\---

Sherlock arrived early the next day. He was relaxing in a corner booth with a menu, impeccably dressed in a button up and bespoke trousers when Andrew found him. 

“Go away. I need to know the menu inside and out if I can do this job properly this evening.” Sherlock snapped at him.

Andrew’s eyebrows rose and he shook his head, moving to his office only to find it occupied by Mycroft who told him in no uncertain terms to go away and let him do the ordering for the week. 

The kitchen staff had everything else well in hand and Andrew gave up, escaping into the alley to have a cigarette. It was there a blond man came wandering up with a grin on his face.

“Hullo there, name’s John… John Watson. My-ah well, Sherlock is driving you mad right about now I assume.” John held out a hand to Andrew.

With a small, guarded grin, Andrew shook his hand. “And Mycroft has taken over my office. How in the world do you get anything done?”

“Mate, I don’t. I stand by and let them burn the world if that’s what they want to do. There’s no stopping a Holmes what has his mind made up.”

Andrew laughed at the answer and nodded. “So I’d gathered. What can I do for you?”

“Well… you can sneak me in later tonight. Sherlock will notice me coming in the front… and there’s no way I’m missing any of this.” John grinned and Andrew laughed.

“Come back at seven. We should be busiest then. I’ll keep a table cleared in his section.”

John grinned. “Thank you, see you then.”

\---

Andrew nearly forgot John when the rush started, someone tipped off the internet that Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective, was working the restaurant, and the line was out the door. A quick check showed that someone was John. On his blog, there was a snapshot from John’s mobile of Sherlock studying the menu, obviously taken from the front window.

John was sneaked into his booth Greg tagging along and Sherlock groaned when he got there, loudly proclaiming. “I thought we had sex so that you wouldn’t come or bring Lestrade!” 

Several patrons looked around, scandalized and Sherlock rolled his eyes. “You’re all here because you read his blog! It’s not as if I’m not alerted when he makes a new one. You all know we’re shagging anyhow! Don’t act as though this is news!”

“Sherlock!” John hissed at him. “That’s enough, really. What kind of pizza do we want?” 

Sherlock glared at him for a moment before spinning and stalking off to the kitchen to put an order in.

Greg and John exchanged a look and burst into laughter. “Christ, mate…” Greg snorted. “I’m just sorry we missed mine trying to greet people.”

Andrew looked on in amusement as people were told all night what to order. Sherlock eventually sprawled regally in the booth next to John while people came in just to order pizza to take home. 

At the end of the evening, Andrew stared in disbelief at the amount of money they’d made. 

Sherlock looked pleased with himself and grinned. “I’ll sit at the front and tell people what to order as they come in tomorrow, much simpler. When you get a crowd, you can tell them that they can order takeaway, or wait on a table. Simple.”

“I- yeah, that sounds great.” Andrew finally answered as he sat there dumbfounded.

\---

Andrew could not believe what the insane Holmes brothers did for the business. Mycroft managed to cut costs by nearly twenty-three percent and Sherlock’s harsh way of deducing exactly what people wanted on their pizza had people coming in, in droves.

The last two weeks, Sherlock cut back his hours, warning people he wouldn’t be doing it much longer. To Andrew’s surprise, on their last day, both brothers met him in his office.

“I have absolutely no use for a pizza place. I’m giving up my half.” Mycroft informed Andrew as he leaned on his umbrella.

“And I am having entirely too much fun to give up my half. I’d like to have a once a month event where I get to come in and tell these idiots what to eat.” Sherlock smirked as he spoke.

Andrew blinked. “Um, okay, well, it will be completely owned by you… so that’s- ah, your decision.”

“Mm, no… I’m giving my half to you, Andrew. We know your father ran this place for our uncle until both became ill and you took over… You’ve done a remarkable job given how young you were and how little they were able to pass on to you.” Mycroft smiled as he held out paperwork. “All that’s left is the signing.”

Sherlock and Mycroft exchanged smiles as Andrew sat there stunned, tears stinging his eyes. “I- thank you. I grew up here… I worked here every summer, I used to nap in this office when Dad didn’t have any other place for me to go.” He looked up at them. “Thank you, again...”

Both Sherlock and Mycroft smiled at him. “You’re welcome.” Mycroft’s voice was soft. “Now, I believe we have one more day of work to complete… Shall we?”

Andrew laughed. “So long as you’re not out front, Mycroft… I don’t care what we do today.”

All three of them laughed as they headed out to check over the dining room.


End file.
